Reunited
by AmeleiLewis
Summary: John is having trouble living without Sherlock...


**I wrote this at around midnight the day after I finished the show and think I pretty much did it just because my heart felt like it was exploding and needed to write something out. And then of course I had to find out that the 3rd series comes out ****_next year._**** I swear it's so painful. I just ahjdskjdkla**

**This was kind of meant to be like how the 3rd series should start, and hopefully it's close.****(if it is i'd be so happy 0^0)**

**Hope it's good! Ignore the typos... .**

John sat motionless at his desk on 221B Baker Street. He slowly and expressionlessly did his work, made trips to the grocery store, helped out around the hospital. All normalities except for something that was missing. His best friend, Sherlock Holmes, was dead. Even now, years later, he could still barely wrap his mind around the fact that he'd would never see him again. His life had become so much more exciting and interesting. Everyday held new mysteries and stories to uncover. But now all that was gone and he felt as if there was a hole in his heart.

John walked over to an area surrounded by caution tape, and let himself through. He caught the eye of Lestrade, who nodded at him from behind a crying woman. John walked over to where the police officers and medics were gathering, around a body. The man lay face-down with his eyes and mouth open. John leaned down next to the body and began his evaluation.

"Suffocation," John said confidently as he stood up. "It appears that he choked on something but in the end died because he was caughing up and choking on his own vomit." The faces around grimaced. LeStrade walked over to John and patted him on the back.

"Good work." he said.  
"Just my job, you know I love doing it." John replied.  
"Still, I'm happy that you are still quite loyal to us after... all that's happened."

"Yes." John turned to walk away from all the hustle and bustle, when LeStrade spoke again.

"If you ever need anything, you can always come to us you know, were your allies. And if it helps at all, I'm terribly sorry."

"Yes, me too." John whispered.

John walked up the stairs to his flat with his arms full of groceries. He was usually able to buy much more now that the fridge wasn't filled with heads and whatnot. He sat down at his desk once more and began compiling files and papers. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

Mrs. Hudson popped her head around the door and smiled lightly.

"I made you some tea, dear. Thought you might need some." she bubbled.

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson." John muttered. He really wasn't in the mood for tea but he couldn't afford to hurt Mrs. Hudson's feelings.

"Dear, I know it's hard to loose a loved one, but sometimes it's best if we just move on and let the rest of the world cheer us up. I know it sounds horrible to forget about someone so dear to you, but you've got to lift your head up. It's what he would have wanted."

"He wasn't a loved one anyways..." John denied. He didn't need this right now.

Mrs. Hudson's face immediatly became madder looking. "How can you say that he's not a loved one?! Even if he was only your best friend as you two kept saying, he'd still be important to you because that's what friend means. And dear you really don't need to keep hiding."

John looked cross at her, considering the fact. He did... love Sherlock. He was one of the first people who really got him to open up to himself and he was incredibly grateful for that. Also the number of times they had risked their lives together, became fugitives with each other, were too many to count. Maybe he did love him. But right now he just wanted him back.

Mrs. Hudson scurried back downstairs, and John turned back to his desk. It had only been about two seconds before he heard a shriek from downstairs.

"Mrs. Hudson? Are you alright?" he called.

"Yes, dear I just dropped a plate." she called back up.

That woman, John thought, was so ditsy and bothersome, but he couldn't bring himself to dislike her, she was too wonderful and motherly.

John heard footsteps coming up the stairs again and he internally groaned. What could she want now?

"Look, Mrs. Hudson, I really need to get this done, so if we could do this some other ti-" John trailed off.

Standing in the doorway if his flat was Sherlock, drenched in rain and perfectly healthy.

John couldn't do much except stare. His eyes were wide and he just looked. Looked over at the man that had been making his heart go crazy for the past month, and that he thought to be dead, standing right there.

Sherlock smiled at him, and it made his heart melt. He never knew why but his smile had always done that. It seemed so rare to see one from such a powerful and stoic man that whenever one flashed across his face, it made him feel as though he had accomplished something.

John stood up so fast that his chair fell over and slid about 4 feet across the floor.

"And where have you been for the past month, might I ask?" John stated calmly.

Sherlock sighed, "I felt like getting away from all of the... fuss, so to say."

John took long, forceful strides across the room and in one swift motion brought his hand down across Sherlock's cheek.

"YOU THINK THAT YOU CAN JUST DISAPEAR FOR A MONTH WITHOUT TELLING ME THAT YOU'RE OKAY? I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD AND THAT I WAS NEVER GOING TO SEE YOU AGAIN! I HAD TO LIVE WITH THAT FOR A MONTH AND YOU COME BACK AND JUST SAY THAT YOU WANTED TO GET AWAY FROM ALL THE FUSS?!" John exploded.

Sherlock looked taken aback, "Well I didn't realize that you needed to know so badly, or I would have told you."

"Didn't realize? Didn't realize!? Oh yes that's rich, thinking that your friend, yout best friend wouldn't perhaps want to know that you were alive!?" John felt the tears brimming in his eyes, something that didn't happen often.

"Well," sighed Sherlock, "I suppose I'll have to do better next tim-"

John mashed his lips onto Sherlocks and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. At first Sherlock seemed surprised and tried to pull away, but his jaw softened and he stayed put for a moment.

John let go, panting and staring up and Sherlock with wild eyes.

"What did you just do?" Sherlock said, he almost sounded panicked.

"Kissed you."

"Yes but why?"

"Love you." John practically choked out.

"Oh really?" asked Sherlock mockingly. "Who was the one that got nervous whenever things between us got to close? Like when we were handcuffed together? Now you think you love me?"

"I don't know. I do love you, because you are incredibly irreplacable in my life but I... don't know why I kissed you. I'm not in love with you. I just think you're the best friend I've ever had. Maybe it's just the happiness of seeing you back." John rambled.

Sherlock smiled again. There he went with the smiling. John was about to overflow.

"Well then," Sherlock giggled, "we'll just have to find out." He grasped John's face in both hands and pulled him in close once more.


End file.
